


This Far

by Syrinx



Series: Gravity [7]
Category: Thoroughbred
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-04
Updated: 2004-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrinx/pseuds/Syrinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So many things can happen that couldn't have been predicted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Far

The program officially read:

**NINTH RACE – BelmontPark – June 27, 2004**

**Distance: Five and One-Half Furlongs (1:02-2)**

STAKE-THE 98TH RUNNING OF THE ASTORIA $100,000 ADDED (UP TO $19,400 NYSBFOA)-: $100,000. FOR FILLIES TWO YEARS OLD. By subscription of $100 each, which should accompany the nomination; $500 to pass the entry box; $500 to start, with $100,000 added. The added money and all fees to be divided 60% to the winner, 20% to second, 11% to third, 6% to fourth and 3% to fifth. 118 lbs. Non-winners of $35,000 allowed 2 lbs.; a race other than maiden or claiming, 4 lbs. Trophies will be presented to the winning owner, trainer and jockey. Closed Saturday, June 14, 2004 with 16 Nominations.

 

Nervously, Ashleigh Griffen closed the program and rolled it up into her hands. The fillies were already on the track, warming up on the backstretch and casually prancing along next to their outriders. Ashleigh leaned against the metal rail of the box and used it to steady her as she rose on her tiptoes to see over the heads of taller people in front of her.

"Do you see her?" Samantha McLean, her assistant trainer and long-time friend, asked next to her.

"She's there with the gray pony," Ashleigh said, pointing as she spotted her bay filly trotting up the inside rail with the nearly white Quarter Horse cantering along next to her. Samantha nodded and also stretched her neck to see, bouncing nervously on her feet.

The fillies moved around the starting gate and hesitantly filed inside. Ashleigh's filly took a quick glance at the blue and white contraption before tossing her head haughtily and stepping inside. The crowd milled and waited out the last few horses, then exploded into a coarse rumbling as the gates burst open.

Ashleigh's filly broke quickly, looking almost startled at the way she had to move so fast from a standstill. Jilly Gordon, Ashleigh's usual jockey, settled her on the outside in third. The leader, a flighty chestnut filly, had been gunned to the front to sprint ahead of the rest by two lengths. Jilly kept the bay filly settled there on the outside, paying no mind to the quick fractions the chestnut was throwing up.

It didn't take long to hit the far turn, and Ashleigh kept her eyes trained on the bay, watching her move and respond to the horses around her. Midway on the turn, the chestnut's lead was considerably cut into, and Jilly was already starting to move a little on the bay's back. The filly began to respond gamely when they galloped past the quarter mile pole, swinging around the few fillies in front of her to make a charge down the stretch.

"Come on, Print!" Samantha hollered next to Ashleigh. "Come on, baby!"

Ashleigh strained harder to get a good look at her bay filly as the crowd began to cheer the horses on. She caught sight of the favorite, a tall Deputy Commander, cutting through on the inside to give chase just as Out Of Print took command on the outside.

"Look to the inside, Jilly," Ashleigh commanded as the favorite began to challenge, gripping her race program and twisting it in her hand as Jilly glanced behind once and went to the crop. The bay filly shot forward after Jilly landed the end of the stick sharply on her hindquarters twice before going the rest of the way on a hand ride. The favorite was lost behind Jilly and Ashleigh's bay filly as the wire flicked overhead.

"Yes!" Ashleigh pumped a fist into the air, letting the racing program drop to the ground.

"She did it!" Samantha shouted, giving Ashleigh an excited hug as Jilly stood up in the stirrups and let the bay filly unwind past the wire.

"I can't really believe it," Ashleigh responded, hugging Samantha back before both women looked back out to the track as Jilly turned the bay filly around and headed back to the grandstand.

"Believe it," Samantha demanded with a laugh. "You definitely deserve this."

Ashleigh let out a big breath and smiled. "Let's go down to see her."

The petite bay filly had beaten them to the winner's circle, and as Ashleigh pushed her way toward her with Samantha following along closely, she suddenly couldn't believe her luck. Jilly was sitting proudly in the saddle, looking disheveled from the race with her face and silks splattered with dirt. The filly underneath her was just as dirty, but she looked lively underneath the fatigue of the race. Looking at the two standing proudly in the winner's circle after the filly's first stakes win, Ashleigh had to stop and be grateful.

"Ash!" Jilly called as the older jockey spotted them approaching out of the crowd. Ashleigh grinned and walked up to them, putting a hand on the filly's dirty shoulder.

"That was fantastic," Ashleigh told her. "How did she feel?"

"She could keep going," Jilly responded, patting the filly on the neck. "She'll definitely be her mother's daughter."

"I've got no doubt of that," Ashleigh laughed.

They arranged for the photo and sent the filly back to the stables to a scattering of applause. An hour later, after the press conference and the trophy presentation, Ashleigh and Samantha followed. Races had just ended, so the backside was still a little on the active side as horses were cooled, bathed, and fed their last meal of the day.

Ashleigh's barn was by far one of the quietest on the Belmont backside. As they walked into the dim shed row, a few horses looked at them mildly over munching on their dinner. Precocious, as always, greeted them with a throaty whicker. Ashleigh rubbed the nearly black filly's neck in response and went on to check on the rest of the horses, looking over the work her three grooms had done on the eighteen horses that were in her barn.

As always, she stopped in on Out Of Print last. The bay filly had already finished up her feed and was eagerly ripping at her hay net, showing no loss of appetite after her Astoria win. Ashleigh rubbed the filly's wide white blaze, still hardly believing that this filly was with her now, racing under her colors and totally her own.

"You're going to take her up to Saratoga next?" Samantha asked, stopping next to Fleeting Moment and giving the dark bay son of Fleet Goddess an affectionate scratch between his ears. Moment returned this affection by lipping at the hem of Samantha's dress, catching it briefly between his teeth and tugging before he lost interest and settled with rubbing his head against the door of his stall.

"That's the idea," Ashleigh nodded, smiling at her mare's son. "If everything goes like I want, Print will be in the Schuylerville."

"I swear to God I'll be up there to see that," Samantha vowed. "July is just going to be a hectic mess of a month. Dad is getting married next week, I want to help you move up to the Saratoga meet, and Townsend Acres is doing their dispersal sale. Dad's already got a few new clients that are interested in sorting through some of their racing stock."

"You'll be going to the sale?" Ashleigh asked curiously.

"Probably," Samantha nodded. "Dad asked me to come with him, and I have to admit I'm a little curious about seeing the end of Townsend Acres. Aren't you going?"

"I had thought about it," Ashleigh nodded. "But, with the Saratoga meet it makes it difficult to fly to Lexington on a whim."

"I don't know if it's a whim," Samantha countered. "I can imagine a lot of people would expect you to be there. Think of what's going to be sold."

"It's rather tempting," Ashleigh admitted. After all, the sole reason she wound up with Out Of Print was because she had decided to go home for a few weeks last September. Her father had pulled her along to the Keeneland September sale and there was the filly, then unnamed, already attracting a ton of attention. It was a miracle Ashleigh had gotten her at all, but then she supposed she was more eager to come away with the filly than anyone else was. Sentiment was hard to top.

"Tempting?" Samantha asked, disbelieving. "Ashleigh, they're selling Wonder. And not only Wonder. They're selling Pride, Princess, and Mr. Wonderful. Think of what you could come away with!"

"Pride is being sold privately," Ashleigh corrected. "And believe me if I thought I had the money to buy them all, I'd hop on a plane tomorrow and throw all the money I had at Townsend Acres. The thing is that I don't have the money. Imagine what Wonder is worth now, as the dam of three stakes winners?"

"Well," Samantha huffed, giving Moment one last pat. "It's fun to think about."

"Exquisite torture," Ashleigh smiled.

"So are you going?" Samantha asked.

"I'll think about it," Ashleigh said. "Speaking of, when is your flight out tonight?"

"Nine," Samantha answered, looking at her watch. "And I've really got to go to pack. I'll meet you at your apartment at seven?"

"Absolutely," Ashleigh nodded. "I've just got to shut some things down here and I'll be by to take you to LaGuardia."

"Great," Samantha grinned. "You sure you can't come down with me? I know they're not your parents, or anything, but they'd love to have you around for as long as you want."

"I'll be on the next flight out after I run Precocious in the Prioress," Ashleigh promised. "Already got the tickets."

Samantha nodded. "Okay," she said, backing off to the parking lot. "Seven o'clock?"

"I'll be there," Ashleigh said, waving her off. "Go get ready!"

"Yeah, yeah," Samantha laughed, turning around and jogging out of the barn to her rental car.

Ashleigh gave Out Of Print a final pat on the neck and moved off to her office, looking at the pile of messages Molly, one of her grooms, had written down for her. She leafed through them, glancing at the names quickly until she stalled on one she hadn't seen coming.

On the fifth slip, the name Brad Townsend had been written along with a phone number. "Call back when you can," was scribbled underneath the name.

Frowning, Ashleigh had to stretch to come up with reasons why Brad Townsend would want to talk with her. They hadn't spoken since she had left Townsend Acres over two years ago, and had only seen glimpses of each other on the various tracks they frequented. Neither had made a move to contact the other, so this message seemed very strange.

Just as Ashleigh moved to pick up the phone, the slip of yellow paper still in her hand, a voice from the door stilled her movements.

"Don't bother."

Ashleigh looked up and stared for a moment, looking on Brad Townsend as he leaned easily against her doorway. Her hand dropped to her side, and Ashleigh put down the stack of papers, looking at him.

"I'm a little surprised," she said, looking at the man who stood across the room from her. He smiled grimly, and shrugged.

"I was in the area."

Ashleigh laughed at that, giving him a disbelieving look he knew well. "Why are you here? I heard Mr. Wonderful is running in the Suburban. Are you here for that?"

"No," Brad shook his head. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, actually. I was up here to help dad sell the Manhattan apartment and the Southampton house. The deals went through this afternoon."

"I see," Ashleigh responded, although she didn't. Brad looked like he always did – dark, handsome, and admirably cool – revealing nothing of his thought process. He certainly didn't look like the farm he had grown up on and would have been heir to was going to be sold on the auction block in less than a month. Part of Ashleigh had to admire that, and be confused by it. "I'm sorry about Townsend Acres," she added, going through the paces. "It must be difficult."

"It had been coming since Wonder's Pride was racing," Brad brushed off her concern. "But thank you."

Ashleigh nodded, knowing just as everyone else that Townsend Acres had started falling to the wayside in the business long ago. Clay Townsend had tried everything to save the farm from bankruptcy, but only fell into deeper debt that the farm could never repay.

"You're keeping a few of the horses?" Ashleigh asked, assuming.

Brad nodded. "Lord Ainsley, the Prince, and Her Majesty. The three I own, in other words. Were you going to the auction?"

"Everyone has been asking me that," Ashleigh said, laughing a little at how strange this all seemed. "But, I haven't decided yet."

"No?" he asked, tilting his head a little to consider her.

"Maybe," Ashleigh sighed. "I'm a little busy, and my funds couldn't possibly cover what I'd like to buy."

"Eyes are bigger than your checkbook, huh?" he asked.

"More or less," Ashleigh shrugged. "I think we both know what I'd want to buy from your father's stock."

He smiled a little then, running a hand through his short dark brown hair. "You're really not going to ask why I called?" he asked, seeming to change the subject.

"I was just getting to that," Ashleigh answered.

"Good," he said. "I've got a business proposition for you."

"Now?" Ashleigh asked, a little more than surprised that Townsend Acres would want to wheel and deal with her so close to their ending. "What does Clay need?"

"Not Townsend Acres," Brad shook his head, finally walking into the office. "Me."

"You," Ashleigh arched an eyebrow, realizing she'd have to adjust quickly this. "Okay. Let's hear it."

Brad stopped in front of her desk and looked down at its messy surface, smiling. "I," he paused, putting his hands on the desk's smooth wooden top before looking her in the eye and continuing, "am currently the owner of Ashleigh's Wonder."

Ashleigh blinked at him. Her first reaction was to deny this news, and when she saw the seriousness on Brad's face she felt like hitting the floor. Brad Townsend owned her mare?

"You've got to be kidding me," Ashleigh breathed, having trouble digesting this.

"I do," Brad told her. "The papers are in my car just outside this stable."

"How?" Ashleigh asked, sputtering. "When? I…"

Brad shook his head. "Ash, I bought her a month ago from my father for three million dollars, about a million or two off of what she'd probably get at auction. She's in foal to Storm Cat, so you can imagine her value at the moment."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ashleigh asked, pressing her hand against her forehead and shutting her eyes, wondering what sort of sick pleasure he could take from telling her that he owned the one mare that had made her life what it was.

"I don't want her," Brad said simply, shrugging as Ashleigh gave him an almost murderous look.

"What the hell are you doing with her, then?" Ashleigh asked, her voice rising unconsciously.

"Look," Brad sighed, falling into the chair across from her desk. "My father didn't want her going to auction, so he sold her to me privately to keep her in the family. The thing is, I need to turn a quick profit on her."

"The farm's problems rubbing off on you?" Ashleigh asked, immediately regretting it when he sighed and leaned forward. It wasn't in her nature to be insensitive, especially about a place that held such a large place in her life. It was very nearly her own home as well as Brad's.

"I'm sorry," Ashleigh mumbled, looking down at her desk.

"No problem," he said quietly.

"So you don't want Wonder," Ashleigh said, settling back into civil conversation. "What do you want with me?"

He looked up at her, focusing his dark eyes on her face. "I want to sell her to you," he said simply.

"To me," Ashleigh echoed, hardly believing what he was saying. She hardly believed any of this as it was, but this truly took the cake.

"For four million," he added, making her involuntarily swallow.

"Four million," she repeated just underneath her breath, staring at him like they had both suddenly gone mad. Then: "Why are you doing this?"

He smiled a little, just faintly around the corners of his mouth. "Come on, Ash. I haven't totally forgotten about a few things. You and I weren't always at odds."

Ashleigh blushed furiously then at the memories he dragged up to the surface, wishing he had used anything besides that as an excuse to sell her Wonder. Quickly, Ashleigh shook her head.

"We were never friends," she told him. "We were at odds most of the time."

"Look," he said, choosing to ignore her. "The offer is on the table. Four million dollars for Wonder. This is your chance to negotiate."

"Brad, I can't just make this decision now," Ashleigh argued. "Four million dollars is a huge chunk of money."

"A huge chunk of money you're paying for a legendary mare and her Storm Cat foal," he reminded her. "It's the best deal you'd ever get for her."

Ashleigh sighed, already feeling a headache blossoming behind her forehead. She was supposed to be back at her apartment soon to take Samantha to the airport, and she had no idea if she could even afford paying four million dollars for the horse of her lifetime. The pressure to respond was officially on, and Ashleigh cracked.

"I can't tell you now," Ashleigh shook her head. "I have to think about it."

"Well, that's surprising," Brad laughed. "The Ashleigh Griffen not immediately jumping at the chance to own the mare that was named after her. Didn't see that coming."

"Brad," Ashleigh said, gathering some of her things together and snatching her car keys. "I appreciate the offer and I'm absolutely shocked that you even thought to sell her to me, but can you give me some time?"

"Yeah," Brad said after a few seconds of watching her. He stood up, looking down at her. "I'll be in the city until tomorrow morning, but you can give me a call any time. You've got my cell number."

"Right," Ashleigh nodded, sadly not having to look at the message slip to know. She had become quite familiar with calling Brad when she had worked at Townsend Acres years ago. Some memories died hard.

"I'll call you when I make a decision," Ashleigh said. "You won't find another buyer between now and then?"

"She's yours if you want her," Brad said. "I'll wait for your answer."

"Thanks," Ashleigh said, feeling even more awkward now that the conversation was coming to an end. She looked down nervously and then up again, unaccustomed to this. He seemed to pick up on this and simply said he'd see her later, if ever. It was good to talk to her again. Things were much different since she had left.

Ashleigh could hardly come up with a response, and he was gone out the door before she could think of one. II.

Travelling was slow on the Queensboro Bridge coming back into Manhattan.  Ashleigh sat quietly in her car, calmly drumming her fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music from the stereo.  The sun was slipping violently under the horizon, and she had to shield her eyes as she turned off of the bridge and into the shadows of the tall buildings in the Upper West Side.

Samantha had been dropped off at LaGuardia in plenty of time for her flight out to Lexington.  Now, nearly an hour later, Ashleigh was finally pulling into the subterranean parking deck of her apartment building on 62nd Street.  She parked her car, a functional sports utility vehicle that had been a graduation gift from her parents, into her parking spot and killed the engine.

The darkness of the parking garage had always made Ashleigh nervous, so she grabbed her things and dashed for the elevator, feeling more secure once she was let off onto her floor.  New York had been a drastic change for Ashleigh, and after two years of living in the big city she still hadn’t hardened to it as well as others might have. 

Tugging her keys out of her purse, Ashleigh unlocked her door and slipped inside the dark apartment.  She locked the deadbolt into place and flicked on the lights, tossing purse and keys onto the kitchen table as she walked inside and collapsed on the white sofa.

She could hear the city rumbling outside the windows of the apartment as she squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead, trying not to think or remember and finding it hard not to.  With a soft sigh, Ashleigh kicked off her dress shoes, listening to them clunk heavily against the hardwood floor and the basket-weave grass rug. 

Ashleigh knew she should be calling her parents about the decision that laid before her, or at least checking her bank account to see if she could possibly turn Brad’s offer into a reality.  Instead, she lay prostrate on the sofa, staring at the way the city lights danced along her high ceilings.

She could afford Wonder.  Ashleigh knew she could meet Brad’s price, but she paused to let her mind wander.  What could it hurt to look closer?  What could it hurt to look back?

*

Two years past, Ashleigh Griffen rode by the gap at Townsend Acres on Mr. Wonderful.  The honey chestnut rolled into a breeze down the backstretch, reaching out with his white forefeet and gathering into an explosion.  Ashleigh gave the young colt rein, encouraging him through the three-furlong breeze. The colt ripped down the inner fence, his amber mane and tail rippling in the wind as Ashleigh curved over his neck to shove her hands upward with his forward motion. 

As they passed the last marker of their breeze, Ashleigh stood up in the stirrups and tugged the compliant chestnut down to a slow gallop, letting him cool out before turning him back to the gap.

“Good work, Ashleigh,” Ken Maddock called from the rail as she trotted back up to the people standing at the gap.  “He looks like he’s ready to send up to Saratoga.  How did he feel?”

“Like always,” Ashleigh said, slowing the colt to a nervous halt long enough to jump down and lead him off the track.  “He’s definitely set to go.”

“We’ll look over some races for him this afternoon,” Ken told her as Ian checked over Mr. Wonderful’s legs.  Ashleigh nodded, fully aware that he didn’t have to discuss anything with her.  Ken included Ashleigh in these decisions only because she was, in effect, an assistant trainer for Townsend Acres and wanted to have a voice in the training decisions for Wonder’s foals.  Ken had been good about always asking her opinion, and Ashleigh appreciated it.

She let Hank take Wonder’s chestnut son back up to the barns, then turned to Samantha, who was holding her own nearly black filly off to the side of the gap.

“Ready?” Samantha asked her, taking a glance up at the receding form of Mr. Wonderful and knowing exactly what Ashleigh was thinking.  There were some days when Ashleigh didn’t know how it was fair that Wonder and her foals weren’t hers.

“Yeah,” Ashleigh nodded slowly, taking Precocious’ reins and getting a leg up from Ian.  Then she rode the filly she owned out onto the track and prepared her for a breeze en route to Saratoga.  Precocious was a giant filly, taking easily after her dam, Fleet Goddess, and moved over the track like she owned it.  She hit the dirt hard and with purpose, not confusing work with play. 

As they wound back down from their breeze, a blow out that Ashleigh figured would hit somewhere in the top three works at that distance that morning, she rode off the track and leapt off the filly, giving her a happy pat on the neck, her silent mood gone. 

“That was fast,” Samantha said, a little awed.  “Actually, that’s probably an understatement.”

“Just fast enough,” Ashleigh nodded.  “She’s ready for that allowance I want to run her in when we get to Saratoga.  I probably won’t work her again while we’re here.”

“Sounds good,” Samantha agreed, nodding her head down the rail to where Brad Townsend stood, watching one of Townsend Prince’s progeny working in company.  “He was watching you like a hawk, Ash.”

Ashleigh glanced down to where the twenty-four year old son of Clay Townsend stood, running his hand through his short dark hair. 

“Not surprising,” Ashleigh said, turning to lead the filly up to the barns herself with Samantha walking along next to them.  “He’s offered to buy Precocious before.  I can imagine he’s honing his offer.”

“That man doesn’t stop,” Samantha sighed.

“Especially since those auction purchases last year didn’t do anything on the track,” Asheigh said, shaking her head as she stopped the filly at the main training barn and stripped off the tack.  “Precocious can run, and he’s seen it.  She’d be a good addition to Townsend Acres.”

“You’re not thinking of selling her?” Samantha asked, aghast.

“Nope,” Ashleigh smiled, leading the sweaty filly outside for a bath.  “Not in this lifetime.”

Later, after Samantha had taken off to see Tor at his father’s stable, Ashleigh walked Fleet Goddess and her foal down to the paddock the mare shared with Wonder, Three Foot, and a scattering of other horses.  Ashleigh laughed as Fleet Goddess’ baby, whom she was calling Fleeting Moment, nearly tripped over himself in his excitement to get to the paddock. 

Ashleigh let go of the mare as Fleeting Moment took off into the paddock.  The mare cantered after him, overtaking the foal’s short strides easily and letting out a few exuberant bucks in celebration of getting out of the stall the two shared in the broodmare barn.  Their antics drove several of the other horses into movement.  Wonder tossed her head and kicked into a trot, her little bay filly running next to her side. 

Leaning against the fence, Ashleigh watched the mares finally settle down to grazing, their foals still romping around in the sun baked bluegrass paddock.  She couldn’t help eyeing Wonder’s filly with curiosity.  The bay daughter of Langfuhr was going to be a striking adult; with her wide white blaze and white hind feet Ashleigh was sure she’d win any beauty contest.  She had the attitude to win, as well.  Ashleigh couldn’t help laughing as the little filly went head on with Fleet Goddess’ larger colt, kicking at him before they tore off to their dams, who commonly grazed side by side, in a race to see who’d get there first.

“Nice crop this year,” she heard behind her.

“It’s always a nice crop,” she answered, looking over at Brad as he came up to stand next to her.  “You can’t look at any of those foals and say they’re not nice.”

“You’re too much of a romantic, Griffen,” Brad told her with a small smile.

“No, I’m just not a critic,” she returned.  “What did you need?”

“I can’t just talk to you?” Brad asked, not even feinting being hurt.  She didn’t expect that.

“No,” Ashleigh replied bluntly. 

“You still not going to sell that two-year-old of yours?” he asked her, jumping straight to the business she had known he wanted to discuss.

“Nope, and never to you,” she told him.

“I’ll pay more than she’s worth, you know,” he added, and she still shook her head.

“That doesn’t matter because she’s not for sale,” Ashleigh persisted.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“You really have a hard time taking the word ‘no,’ don’t you?” Ashleigh sighed, starting to lose her cool.  “I’m racing Precocious, Brad.  You know I’ve been excited about Fleet Goddess’ foals, you know I want to race them, and you know I won’t sell them unless I feel that I need to.  I don’t need to sell Precocious, so I’m not going to.  Okay?”

Brad was silent for a moment, watching the foals.  Ashleigh shifted irritably on her heels, waiting for him to say something.

“The old man wants to talk to you,” he finally said, catching Ashleigh off guard.

“What?” she asked suddenly, frowning. 

“My father,” Brad clarified.  “He wants you in his office.”

“Why?” Ashleigh asked, giving Brad a suspicious glare.

“It’s really not my place,” he shrugged. 

Ashleigh stared at him silently and, feeling her stomach turn over, she pushed away from the fence and headed up to the offices without a good bye.  Clay Townsend hadn’t wanted to talk to her since he had asked her if she’d like a job as an assistant trainer at Townsend Acres.  Since Charlie Burke, her mentor and trainer of Ashleigh’s Wonder, had died two years ago Ashleigh had jumped at the chance to broaden her knowledge of the business.  Since then she had helped train all of Wonder’s foals – Wonder’s Pride, Townsend Princess, and Mr. Wonderful.  It was the best thing she could work out in order to stay close and oversee Wonder and her foals without actually owning them, so Ashleigh had loved the job.

As she walked into the administration building off of the main training area, Ashleigh found Mr. Townsend in his office, surrounded in paper, winner’s circle photos, and Eclipse Awards.  He looked up at her and smiled grimly, welcoming her inside the room.  Ashleigh slipped inside, shutting the door as he asked and lowered herself into one of the leather chairs opposite him.

“Ashleigh,” he said, sounding tired and tried of patience.  “How is Precocious doing?”

Blinking, Ashleigh shrugged.  “She’s ready to go to Saratoga, sir.  I’ve got her entered in an allowance there.”

“Good, good,” he mumbled, nodding at that before sighing and leaning his forearms on the top of the desk.

“Ashleigh, I want to tell you how proud I’ve been of your work here.  I don’t believe I’ve ever allowed for myself the chance to formally thank you for all the time you’ve put into Wonder and her foals.  Without you, I know for a fact the farm wouldn’t have seen this much success and attention.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ashleigh said, not fully understanding and still feeling wary.  This was not normal by any means.

“Be that as it may, Townsend Acres is still seeing hard times.  There’s a recession after all, and no one is doing as well as they would like.”

Ashleigh was beginning to frown, staring at the man as he seemed to have a hard time getting out the rest.

“I’ve decided to cut back the staff,” Mr. Townsend said to her.  “Ashleigh, I really have no choice but to let you go.”

“Let me go,” Ashleigh echoed softly, feeling her body stiffen as a wave of nausea swept through her.

“Believe me, this is a hard situation,” Clay told her.  “But your position here has always been an expendable one.  Cuts needed to be made in certain areas and unfortunately this couldn’t be avoided.”

“You’re letting me go,” Ashleigh said, slow to understand.  She felt the sudden need to cry, to show some emotion, but she sat stunned, refusing to show any tiny hint that she had been happy here and was devastated that it was being taken away. 

“Ashleigh, there’s more that I need to speak to you about,” Clay Townsend said, getting her attention.  “About Fleet Goddess, and her foals.  No longer being an employee would mean the discount I’ve been giving you on their board…”

“No longer exists,” Ashleigh finished his sentence, her voice sounding shocked and drained.

“That’s correct,” Clay said, nodding.  “And since you’ve been an employee here I’ve raised the boarding fee of broodmares and bloodstock considerably.”

“I see,” Ashleigh answered, standing up with wobbly knees.  Her legs didn’t seem like they wanted to work, so she slipped around the high-backed chair and gripped onto it to steady her.

“I want you to know that Townsend Acres will cover any moving expenses,” Clay added.  “And, as a favor to you and your family I’d be glad to hunt around and help you find another job or another place to board your animals.”

“Thank you,” Ashleigh said hoarsely, hardly recognizing herself.  “I’ll let you know if I need assistance.”

“I’m sorry, Ashleigh,” he said.

As much as she wanted to scream at him to save it, Ashleigh simply nodded and turned away.

*

“Oh, Ash, what are you going to do?” Linda March asked as Ashleigh curled up on her sofa with the cordless phone cradled against her ear. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Ashleigh sighed, tugging her hair out of its ponytail and running her fingers through the dirty, dark brown strands.  “I’m still going to take Precocious up to Saratoga, but after that I’ll need to get her, Goddess, and the foal off of Townsend Acres before I’m hit with a gigantic boarding bill.”

“Well, what on earth were they paying you there, Ash?” Linda asked.  “Can’t you keep them there for the rest of the summer?”

“God no,” Ashleigh shook her head.  “Three horses boarded at those costs would put me under, no matter how much Precocious made for me.  To be honest, I need her to win that allowance now, and I hate to say that.”

“I know,” Linda said on the other end, knowing her best friend’s refusal to lay so much on a horse race.  “What about your parents?”

“I can take Goddess and Moment there, but I don’t want them to board for free,” Ashleigh replied stubbornly.  “Then there’s Precocious.  Linda, I really don’t know what to do right now.”

“It will all work out, Ashleigh,” Linda said reassuringly.  “You know you’ve always gotten through in the past.  Just take Goddess and her foal to your parents, take the free board they might offer you, and race Precocious at Saratoga the rest of the summer.  Doesn’t that work?”

“I’d be borderline,” Ashleigh said with a sigh, “but it would work until I found a job.”

“There,” Linda laughed.  “You’ll get by.  Quit worrying so much and just be glad that you’re getting out of that tiny apartment.”

Ashleigh looked around at her rather bleak cinder block home and chuckled then.  “But what would I get that’s better with no job?” she asked.

“Well, at least Brad won’t be around to bother you,” Linda responded.  “That’s something.”

Just then, a knock came at the door and Ashleigh sighed.  “Hey, Linda, I’ll have to call you back later.  Someone is at the door.”

They made a hasty goodbye and Ashleigh pressed the end button on the phone before tossing it on the sofa.  She stood up and crossed her small living space, tugging open the door and immediately frowning at Brad Townsend.

“Speak of the devil,” she muttered to herself, getting a curious look from Brad.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Ashleigh shook her head.  “What did you want?”

“Just wanted to see how you’re doing,” Brad shrugged, leaning his shoulder against the wall outside her door.  “The whole farm is crawling with the news.”

Ashleigh raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling that rage she had kept in check in Mr. Townsend’s office finally starting to rise.  This time Ashleigh didn’t feel any incentive to keep it bottled in.

“Brad, I’d like to know something, actually,” she said inquiringly.  “Exactly what was your hand in it?”

He looked at her blankly, as though he had expected that question.  “I had no hand in this.  My father told me, I told you to go to him.  I had no idea before today.”

“You sure?” Ashleigh asked sarcastically.  “I mean, it’s not like you haven’t tried in the past to casually get rid of me.  Am I that irritating to you?”

“Where are you getting this?” he asked angrily, his expression darkening. 

“I don’t think I have to explain myself,” Ashleigh said heatedly.  “You’d try to run anything off that you couldn’t have.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Brad decided to step back and shrug.  “Fine, Griffen.  I’ll see you in Saratoga, if you can manage to get yourself there.”

Ashleigh watched him turn and walk away.  It was then that she started to cry.

*

Saratoga Springs was unbearably hot and humid.  The horses came back from the Oklahoma Training Track soaked in sweat, their riders looking no better.  Ashleigh stood at the rail of the training track wearing two-day-old dirty jeans and a white tank top, her hair wound up in a tight bun to keep the sticky strands from clinging to her neck.  It was only nine in the morning and already she smelled of sweat, horses, and suntan lotion.  It was only a matter of time before she started to burn.

Precocious was just finishing her breeze and began to gallop out the rest of the next furlong when Ashleigh spotted Townsend Princess out of the corner of her eye.  The copper filly danced and tested her rider’s patience as she kicked into a gallop and thundered by, her chestnut coat already darkening to a shimmering bronze because of the sweat.  Momentarily fazed, Ashleigh blinked and registered Samantha approaching with a very damp, and therefore very dark, Precocious. 

“She’s going to need a long bath,” Samantha said, jumping off the filly and leading her off the track.  “How was her time?”

“Moderate,” Ashleigh said.  “Which wouldn’t be too bad, except she’s running in a five and a half furlong race.”

Samantha winced and apologized, but Ashleigh shook her head.

“It’s not your fault,” she smiled at her friend.

“Are you still going to send her out?” Samantha asked, bringing her up to the barn Ashleigh was sharing with several other trainers and striping the tack off of Precocious’ hot back. 

“I really have no choice,” Ashleigh sighed.  “I hate to say it, but I need the money.”

“She isn’t accustomed to the heat,” Samantha said.  “She might not do very well.”

Ashleigh nodded, turning on the hose as Samantha held the filly.  She began to rinse Precocious off, noticing how much the filly enjoyed the cool water. 

“I guess I’ll take my chances,” Ashleigh frowned, running the water over Precocious’ back and hating herself all the while.

*

The first day of August marked the Go For Wand Handicap.  Ashleigh stood by the rail casually, wearing a clean Saratoga t-shirt and jean shorts with leather sandals on her feet.  She definitely didn’t look like a trainer, or anyone that would have anything to do with the track for that matter.  Ashleigh liked that – she needed the break.

“And they’re off in the Go For Wand Handicap,” Ashleigh listened to the announcer’s voice, pushing a little against the people standing next to her to see the fillies thunder past the grandstand.  As the horses flashed by and disappeared into the turn, excitement waned a little.  Ashleigh stood silently, waiting for the excitement to pick up when the field hit the homestretch.

She didn’t see it when it happened, but when the crowd further up began to yell and everyone around Ashleigh began to strain to see.  Finally there they came, Townsend Princess up in front with her copper coat flashing.  Ashleigh followed the filly sharply, watching Jilly ride the chestnut easily to the finish.  They had won it going away.

“How much did you bet on her?” she heard Brad ask behind her as the crowd cleared out to place bets on the next race.  Ashleigh had stayed at her vantage point on the rail and bristled a little when she heard him.  They hadn’t spoken since their fight at Townsend Acres and only now did she finally turn to really look at him.

“Two dollars to win,” she said, holding up the ticket she had been holding in her hand.  “A sentimental bet.”

“Won’t be worth much,” he said, walking up to stand next to her as the horses were led back to the stables.  Ashleigh nodded; the filly had been the odds on favorite.  Had she really wanted to win some money Ashleigh would have had to put down hundreds on Princess’ nose.

“Why weren’t you in the winner’s circle?” Ashleigh asked, brushing her hair out of her face as a hot breeze picked up.

“I spotted you on my way down,” Brad said.  “Figured this was the best chance I was going to get.”

“You really wanted to talk to me so badly?” Ashleigh asked with a little laugh.

“I wanted to see how Precocious was doing,” Brad shrugged.   “I’m sorry it didn’t work out well for you.”

“It was a losing venture,” Ashleigh sighed.  “She just overheated, but she’ll be fine.  I’ll take her home and let her rest out the summer.  Maybe take her to Churchill Downs for the fall meet.”

“You’ll take her to your parents’ place?” he asked, and Ashleigh nodded. 

“Don’t have a choice right now,” Ashleigh said quietly. 

He looked at her seriously for a moment and then back out at the track.  Fifteen minutes to go until the next race – Mr. Wonderful’s maiden.  Ashleigh would stay stationed here until the colt had come and gone, and he knew that so he stood quietly, leaning against the rail. 

“Look,” he suddenly said, getting Ashleigh’s attention and breaking the oddly comfortable silence.  “I’ll give you 350 for the filly.”

“Precocious?” Ashleigh asked, taken aback.  “I already told you no, Brad.  Can’t we just stand here without talking about business?”

“No,” Brad shook his head, persistent.  “Think of it this way, Griffen.  You need a hell of a lot of help at the moment.  You needed that filly to run the race of her life yesterday and she didn’t come through.  I’ve wanted to buy her since she was a yearling, and I’m overpaying for her on top of that.  Give me your filly, take the money, and start up a training operation anywhere you want.”

“Brad,” Ashleigh said, sighing.  “I want to keep the filly.”

“You can’t afford to,” he argued back. 

Ashleigh groaned and rubbed her forehead, wishing he would stop.  “You make this all sound like you’re doing it for my benefit,” she told him. 

“Jesus,” he responded, looking up at the sky before back down to her.  “What do I have to say to you?”

Ashleigh didn’t respond right away.  She didn’t respond until after Mr. Wonderful had walked out onto the track and went roaring around the turns, coming to the finish line a gutsy neck in front.  Ashleigh watched the honey chestnut colt dance back to the winner’s circle, a promising career ahead of him.

She watched Mr. Wonderful and wished she could feel as good as he did.  There was a part of Ashleigh that screamed for such assurance that she could get her feet under her and be able to keep up with this cut-throat pace the Thoroughbred world was running at.  Right now she was drowning and she knew it all too well. 

As Mr. Wonderful trotted by, Ashleigh turned to Brad.

“How much?” she asked him.

“350,” Brad repeated, then shrugged.  “Hell, 400.  Whatever makes you get over yourself and become sensible.”

Ashleigh worked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked up at Brad, who was watching her expectantly.  Finally, she nodded.  “I’ll give her to you for 400.”

“You sure?” he asked, looking at her darkly.

“Don’t ask me that,” Ashleigh said, pushing away from the railing.

*

It rained the day before Ashleigh would leave.  She could hear the soft droplets of water splatter on the concrete outside her open door as she boxed up the remains of her apartment.  It was late August, and the air conditioning was off.  The humidity was almost suffocating, but Ashleigh worked through it as she tried to get the last of her things in boxes.

Pausing after she finished up a box, Ashleigh leaned back on the floor and grabbed the glass of water that was next to her, taking a deep gulp.  She looked around her and felt a pang of regret hit her.  Even though she had settled Fleet Goddess and her weanling colt at her parents’ farm, and had made sure Precocious would get the best of care at Townsend Acres under Brad, there was a part of her that still refused to believe any of this was happening.  But why wouldn’t it?  It wasn’t like anything outstanding had ever happened to Ashleigh Griffen.

Just as Ashleigh was ready to move into the bedroom and pull the mess of sheets off her bed and fold them up, a tentative knock on the door made her stop.  She had expected Samantha or her parents, as they were both coming by in a few hours to help pack up the truck.  Instead she saw Brad standing there with a manila envelope in his hands.

“Hi,” Ashleigh said, standing up.  He started to wind around the boxes without a hello or an acknowledgement that he had heard her.  Ashleigh frowned a little as he stopped in front of her and looked around at the room in its state of disarray.

“You’re leaving today?” he asked.  She nodded.

“That was the plan,” Ashleigh said, rubbing her hands on her jean shorts and turning around to step over boxes and head into the kitchen.  He followed her as if attached by an invisible string, unnerving Ashleigh when she nearly ran into him to grab her purse.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, stepping backward and kicking a box.  “Jesus.  How much crap do you have?” he asked as an afterthought.

“No,” Ashleigh said, pulling a black permanent pen from the purse.  “I had to buy a new one,” she added, pushing a clump of humidity-flattened hair back into her ponytail. 

He glanced at all the boxes and shrugged.  “Not very surprised,” he responded, putting the envelope on the counter.

“So what do you need?” she asked, heading back into the room to mark up the box she had just sealed.  Before she could get past him he grabbed her wrist and tugged her back.

“Just wait a second,” he said, letting go of her wrist quickly when she stopped in front of him.

“What?” she asked, watching him put a hand on the envelope that sat innocently on the countertop.

“You know that the paperwork came through on the filly?” he asked, and Ashleigh shrugged, acting less concerned than she was.

“Sure,” she nodded.  “I got it yesterday.”

He nodded and picked up the envelope, pulling out the papers and slapping them all back on the counter.  Ashleigh glanced at the papers quickly, noticing Precocious’ name followed by the filly’s pedigree printed on the top sheet. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Brad asked.

“Bright and early,” Ashleigh nodded. 

“Think you can take a horse with you?”

She blinked at him silently, stalled.  “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been looking at this filly of yours,” he said, flipping through the papers nonchalantly.  “We took her out yesterday morning under Craig, and she’s going to need a hell of a lot of work to get back to races.  On top of that – I must not have noticed this before – she toes out pretty severely on her left foreleg…”

“She does not,” Ashleigh started, only to be silenced when he raised his hand.

“Also, she’s by Jazzman, who’s a fairly unproven sire still, and a maiden mare with obscure bloodlines.  She couldn’t possibly be a good addition to the broodmare band.”

Ashleigh stared at him, her mouth falling open.

“Plus,” he shrugged.  “She’s willful as all hell.  Dumped Craig on return from her work.”

“So,” Ashleigh started, her voice soft.  “What are you saying, Brad?  You don’t want my filly?”

“Not only do I not want her,” he said.  “I’m willing to sell her back to you for an incredibly cheap price.”

“How cheap?” Ashleigh asked, trying not to smile and shriek for joy. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Brad sighed.  “How much have you got in your wallet?”

Ashleigh stood in front of him and could hardly believe what he was saying.  She nearly wanted to pinch both herself and him to make sure this was real.  She stared at him for a moment and then reached over to her purse, pulling out her wallet and looking inside.

Twenty-four dollars.

She pulled out the twenty-dollar bill and four one-dollar bills, putting them on the counter above the papers.  Brad looked at them and laughed.

“That should do it.”

Before he could reach for them, Ashleigh quickly put her hand over the money and met Brad’s eyes, taking a step forward.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Dead serious,” he nodded.

“Why?” she asked, barely whispering as she took her hand off the money and let him fold up the bills to put in the pocket of his jeans.  “Why would you trade a horse for twenty-four dollars when you paid four hundred thousand?”  

He looked down at her and smiled fleetingly, reaching his hand out to push back an errant strand of her brown hair.  He held the strand for a moment longer than he should have, but she didn’t seem to notice.  Ashleigh stood still as he let the strands slip from his fingers, hardly able to move herself out of his reach.

“I’m going to miss you, Griffen,” he told her.  “And that filly wouldn’t have helped any.  Just having Wonder and her foals around is enough of a reminder.”

“Selfish reasons,” she criticized, but didn’t really mean it. 

“Purely selfish,” he said, his fingers tracing down her jaw, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. 

Ashleigh realized somewhere between the touching and the twenty-four dollars that they were both insane.  No one could have told her differently at this moment, especially as she stood stock-still and watched him with an intrigued glint in her eyes.  Of course, she wouldn’t have bought it if someone had told her that this was all together crazy.  Hadn’t they been down so many other roads before and wound up where they were right now?

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Ashleigh suddenly sputtered, causing him to stop.  “For New York.”

“I know,” he said, letting his fingers rest on her jaw and throat.  He had always had warm, strong hands.  It was a struggle for Ashleigh to push past this, only getting caught up in his dark brown eyes that seemed to be moving a little closer with each passing breath.

“What are we doing about this?” Ashleigh asked, leaving the ending of the question implied. 

“I don’t know,” he told her, drawing her up closer to him.  She widened her bright hazel eyes, tipping her head back as she felt his other hand snake around her lower back.  “Griffen, you and me aren’t meant to be together, especially not here.  You’re best not to be here.  Take your filly to New York, set up your stable, and be successful.  This is a goodbye.  Still,” he paused, looking at her so close to him as she breathed quickly, her pulse fluttering underneath his fingertips, “it doesn’t mean I don’t want to draw this out as long as I can.”

Ashleigh didn’t know what to say to that.  She only witnessed time speeding up as Brad Townsend kissed her in the kitchen.  Something within her silenced any need to push him away, because now she was certainly not going to lie to herself.  He kissed her and she clung, starting a move backward through all the boxes littering the floor and getting in their way.  They stumbled together over the piles of racing magazines and cardboard boxes in the way to her bare bedroom, until he finally lifted her up and settled her on top of the bed and it’s undone sheets. 

Ashleigh acted without thinking, peeling off her clothing from her humidity-slicked body and tossing the articles carelessly to the floor.  There was a moment where he watched her without moving, as though he couldn’t believe this sudden move had occurred, before she crawled over the bare pillows and pillowcases to tug the bottom of his T-shirt over his head. 

If this was a goodbye, they were going to do it right. 

*

Ashleigh sat on her sofa two years later, her cell phone in her hands and the chance of her lifetime waiting around the corner.  If Brad Townsend had taught her anything, it was not to give in and to not settle for less.  She wasn’t going to do either.

Calmly, she dialed the number from memory and waited three rings before she heard him pick up.

“Griffen?” he asked, sounding not all together surprised.

“Can you come by tonight?” she asked, trying not to sound too young and innocent to him.

“Give me thirty minutes,” he responded evenly, then hung up.  Ashleigh turned off the cell phone and sat back on the sofa, listened to the traffic, watched the lights reflect on her ceiling, and breathed deep.

III

  
It was some ten minutes later that Ashleigh bolted off of the sofa, the realization that she smelled like the track fresh in her mind.  During her three-minute shower – using lukewarm water, as she couldn’t wait – Ashleigh chastised herself and bit back the nervous need to call and tell him to wait a few more days.  She wasn’t ready.  But then what would he think of her?  This soaking wet mess of a girl that he had thought was something.  Was she anything now?

Ashleigh climbed out of the shower and took a steadying look at herself in the bathroom mirror and glared into her own hazel eyes.  This was no time to second-guess herself.  He would see straight through her and give her that cocky half-smile that he knew was so appealing and fly back to Lexington after making her look like a fool.  And neither would be anywhere better.

Dripping on her bath mat, Ashleigh pushed away all the thoughts and nervousness.  She dried off quickly, ran the towel against her long, tangled brown hair, and ran to find clean, semi-decent clothes.  She came away with a pair of relatively inexpensive blue jeans, sandals, and a white cotton blouse that was light enough to pass as summer wear if she rolled up the sleeves. 

The hair, oh God, the hair.  This was when Ashleigh knew she had, in general, failed as a woman.  Instinct told her to throw the wet brown clumps into a ponytail and forget it, and the other part of her stressed about the split ends and the tangles.  When was the last time she had gotten a hair cut?

“It’s just Brad and papers,” Ashleigh growled to herself, and ripped the brush into the dark mass anyway.  Once it was smooth, tangle free, and damp – no longer dripping – she left it with some satisfaction, trying to claim some victory over her roaring emotions. 

Ashleigh walked back into the living room and sighed, looking at the space as if it were a disaster area.  She had never been very apologetic about her messiness, but as she began to pick up the file folders and pieces of leather equipment she started to wonder if this was a sign that she was never going to grow up.

When she was on her third trip of removing her mess to the dark confines of the hall closet, a knock at the door physically made her jump and drop the top two Blood-horse magazines that had been sitting precariously atop the pile of junk in her arms. 

“Damn it,” Ashleigh sighed, dumping the magazines into the closet and quickly kicking in the fallen issues to join the rest.  She shut the closet firmly, hoping everything she had piled inside in a moment of panic wouldn’t spill out, and jogged to the front door. 

She didn’t bother looking through the peephole like she normally did.  This time, with her left hand clutching the doorknob, she undid the bolts and pulled the door open, revealing Brad Townsend standing easily on his heels and a smile on his lips.

Of course, he looked perfect.  He wore a light blue microgingham dress shirt, cuffs undone and sleeves rolled up over his tanned arms, shirt tails tucked into dark blue jeans.  He was all cool professional and warm casual at once. 

“Griffen,” he greeted her, walking past her when Ashleigh finally stepped to the side and let him in.  She closed the door and leaned against it for a minute, watching him stop to survey what he could see of her apartment. 

“You haven’t changed much, have you?” he asked after a moment, glancing back at her.

“That’s cute, Brad,” Ashleigh smirked at him, suddenly over the nervousness she had felt only moments ago.  She pushed away from the door and walked into the kitchen.  “Want something to eat? Drink?  I haven’t had dinner yet, so I’m starved.”

“I’m good,” he told her, wandering up to the counter.  He put the manila envelope he had been holding on the granite countertop, and Ashleigh couldn’t help but allow herself to gaze over it for a second.  Just inside that plain, new envelope were Wonder’s papers.  Her mare’s papers, which she would soon hold in her possession, making what Ashleigh had always felt in her heart a legally binding ownership.

“Could do with a beer, though,” he said as an afterthought, knocking Ashleigh out of her silent amazement.

“I don’t have any,” she frowned, walking over to the fridge and yanking open the door, finding a bottle of white wine instead.  “Chalk Hill Vineyards Sonoma 2001,” Ashleigh read, handing the bottle to him. 

“Well, this got unexpectedly intimate,” Brad remarked dryly, getting a look from Ashleigh as she searched around in her freezer.  She had a huge collection of frozen dinners – she had never been a good cook, and didn’t profess to even try anymore – and she grabbed one and threw it in the oven unceremoniously.

“Sorry,” she apologized, throwing away the carton.  “Between you, taking Samantha to the airport, and the traffic on the way back I just didn’t have the time.  Do you need a glass?”

“Huh?” he asked, still holding the bottle of wine.  She smiled at him and reached behind his head to open a cabinet, bringing down two wineglasses and handing him the cork screw.

“I don’t trust myself,” she told him.

“I wouldn’t either,” he returned, taking the corkscrew and opening the bottle, pouring the two glasses and giving Ashleigh hers.  “Frozen food and wine?” he asked, and she blushed a little.

“I’ve never admitted to being a good cook,” she told him.  “It either gets burned or something just doesn’t work quite right.  This is my safest bet.”

He shook his head and laughed, taking a sip of the wine.  “After things wrap up in Kentucky, I’m going to teach you a few things.”

“Teach me?” Ashleigh asked, confused.  “What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving Kentucky,” he told her.  “After the auction and the paperwork and the legal crap, I’m moving to England.  I’ve already got a place there, actually.  But, I’m taking August to settle things up here, so I’m pretty sure I’ll have you feeding yourself correctly by the time I go.”

Ashleigh blinked at him, stunned.  All of a sudden she felt as though she didn’t know a lot of the news coming out of Kentucky.  With the Townsend Acres dispersal sale she felt as though the whole Bluegrass State had been turned upside down, much like it had when Calumet had gone under to stories of death and dismal insurance fraud.  Ashleigh, of course, was hidden away in New York, enjoying her relative success on the NYRA tracks with her small fleet of horses.  She was far away from the news.  This blow, however, was something completely unexpected.

“You’re moving to England,” Ashleigh stated, taking a gulp of her wine.  “Seriously?”

“I am,” he nodded. 

“Can I ask why?” Ashleigh replied.  “What are you going to do there?”

“Bloodstock,” he replied.  “I’m taking what’s left of my father’s connections in the United Kingdom and am forming an agency.”

“Always the businessman, huh?” Ashleigh smiled tightly at that news, taking another sip of wine before slipping out of the kitchen and walking into the living room, sitting down on the sofa.

“Ashleigh,” he sighed, following her into the next room and sitting opposite of her. 

“No,” Ashleigh shook her head, interrupting him.  “I know this is in your best interest.  I’m not,” she stalled, looking at him with a growing need to tell her own feelings to give it a break.  He wasn’t hers, and if he was going to move across the Atlantic it was his decision.  What had he said two years ago?  They were never meant for each other?

“I’m glad you’re going, actually,” Ashleigh quickly recovered.  “I can see England agreeing with you.”

He looked at her suspiciously, and she knew he didn’t believe a word she said.  “Ashleigh, Townsend Acres is defunct.  It has hit bottom, and I can’t buy it back at auction.  Even if I could, I couldn’t keep it alive.  I’m not going to buy my own farm, I’m not a trainer, and I have no interest in playing the ownership game anymore.  Especially not in Kentucky.”

“No interest?” Ashleigh asked.  “So that means you have to go to England?”

“I want to go to England,” Brad clarified.  “Those are the only connections to Townsend Acres that haven’t soured.”

“What about Lord Ainsley and the Prince?” Ashleigh demanded, ignoring how much the demise of Townsend Acres had possibly affected Brad’s connections.  “What are you doing with them?”

“I sold their breeding rights privately to Coolmore,” Brad said.  “It hasn’t been announced yet to the public.  Her Majesty I’m keeping.  I’m actually toying with the idea of sending her to your parents to board.”

Ashleigh stared at him, wondering how much he had gotten from selling off two champion stallions and what her parents would say to Her Majesty.  He was certainly getting rid of stock fast, and Wonder was his last step.  Her gorgeous golden mare that he would sell to her for less than she was worth.

“Say something, Griffen,” Brad said, leaning back in his chair, the wineglass dangling from the tips of his fingers.

Ashleigh frowned, furrowing her eyebrows close together.  She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t determine what.  She wasn’t going to put her emotions and feelings on the line with Brad, as she had never done that.  Ashleigh wasn’t even sure about what she had been expecting from this meeting, so discussing feelings was out of the question.

Wonder’s papers were still sitting mostly forgotten on her kitchen counter.  Had Brad just wanted to get the whole thing over with they could have signed the papers and he would have left.  They hadn’t even discussed Wonder yet.  They were jumping into a conversation about the future, and Ashleigh didn’t know what on earth that meant.  Nor did she want to admit that Brad’s leaving the country bothered her.  Not yet, anyway.

So she backpedaled with: “I’m sure my parents could board Her Majesty.”

Brad rolled his eyes and caught her off guard like he always did.  “I’m not talking about Her Majesty.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Ashleigh asked, dodging artfully.

Brad sighed and stood up, walking into the kitchen to the envelope.  Ashleigh frowned and followed, watching him take out the papers, the change of ownership agreement lying on top of the small stack.  Brad downed the rest of his wine and put the glass down, looking at her.

“Have a pen?” he asked, and Ashleigh frowned more deeply, not liking his new attitude.

“We’re doing this now?” she asked, reaching over to her purse anyway and searching through it until she found a simple black ball point pen, handing it to him.  Part of her wanted to slow all of this down, but the other part of her was beyond anxious for it to finally be done.

“We’re here to sign papers, right?” Brad asked her.  “Or did I miss something?”

“Okay,” Ashleigh sighed, his attitude killing her excitement.  She snatched the pen from his hand and threw it back in her purse.  “What the hell, Brad?  What are you doing?”

“Just give me the pen, Griffen,” Brad told her, his dark brown eyes not hiding his impatience.  He was angry, and Ashleigh was angry that he was angry.  She would tell him anything if he’d only have the patience to ask.

“No,” Ashleigh responded, snatching up the purse as well and zipping it closed, swinging it over her shoulder like she was ready to go somewhere.  Brad sighed and looked down at her, not at all amused. 

“Are you going to continue to act like an immature bitch, or can we just get this done?” he asked, grinding out the words.  “I’ve got a six am flight out tomorrow, so I’d rather not waste my time.”

“What the hell do you want me to do, Brad?” Ashleigh asked.  “In the past few hours you’ve told me you bought Wonder, want to sell Wonder to me, and after you’ve successfully cleaned up Townsend Acres’ huge mess in Kentucky you’re leaving the country.  Excuse me if I don’t want to go along with the pace you’re setting.  I haven’t really seen or talked to you in two years.  You could be less pushy.”

“I’d like you to stop lying to me, first of all,” he argued back.  “Just tell me what you want.  We’ve never really held back like this, and it’s irritating as all hell.”

“Lying to you?”  Ashleigh asked.  “You’ve never been much for caring what I was thinking or saying.”

“What can I say?  I haven’t seen you in two years.  I’m rusty on the not caring,” Brad replied sarcastically.

“So what?  You’re blaming me that we didn’t keep in contact?  You said it yourself, Brad.  Not meant to be, right?  Go to New York, you’re better off, blah, blah, blah,” Ashleigh said, ticking off points on her fingers.  “Had you been lying about that I assume we wouldn’t have avoided each other.  I presume you meant it, so how am I lying now?”

“You seem awfully worked up over this,” Brad responded.  “I’m not saying you’re to blame for the whole two years thing, as I actually did mean all of that.  I just want you to stop acting so damn distant.”

“What do you want me to say?” Ashleigh groaned.  “That I don’t want you to move to England?  Well, congratulations!  I don’t want you to go to England, all right?  I figured that was pretty well-known by now.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and neither did she.  Ashleigh glowered, angry that he had reduced her to this and angry that nothing was being done about cutting the tension.  She was about to yell at him to say something when she smelled an oddly acrid smell drifting up through the air.

“God, damn it,” Ashleigh sighed, turning away from Brad and running to the oven, turning it off and opening the door, coughing at the smell.  That was when the smoke detector went off. 

Ashleigh dumped the burned food in the sink and turned on the faucet to use the garbage disposal, getting rid of the ruined meal.  Brad climbed up on the counter to reach the detector on her high ceilings, ripping the battery out and ending the maddening noise.  Ashleigh was using the manila envelope to air out the kitchen, wishing to God this hadn’t happened and understanding the meaning of complete embarrassment.

When the air smelled more like it normally did, Ashleigh finally put down the envelope and faced Brad, who looked as though he was about to die of holding in the need to laugh.  He handed her the battery to the smoke detector and smiled.

“Thanks,” she said meekly, slipping it into her pocket.  Then he burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Ashleigh said, trying to suppress the embarrassed flush rising in her cheeks. 

“No, it is,” he laughed.  “This was just waiting to happen.”

“Yes,” Ashleigh sighed, defeated.  “My ability to burn and in all other ways destroy food it very funny, I imagine.”

“You really have no idea,” he smiled, laughter edging off. 

“I’m glad that was amusing for you,” Ashleigh said, pulling her purse from her shoulder and opening it, producing the pen.  “So, do you want to do this?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded, suddenly serious. 

They squared away the money and signed the appropriate lines on the official sheets of paper.  Ashleigh put the cap back on the pen as soon as they were done and looked for a long while at her signatures, feeling an odd range of emotions from sheer happiness to strange resentment.  Wonder was hers, and she couldn’t be happier looking at her name on that page.  It was legal and binding -- everything she had wanted.

She could start living out the dreams she had plotted out when she was a little girl and could anticipate the moment Wonder’s next foal was born.   She could think up possible names for a filly or a colt, and could determine whom to breed Wonder to next.   She could take Wonder out on the trails without asking permission and gallop away over the hills. 

Time had been wasted, and now she lived in Manhattan.  There were no hills in Manhattan.  Ashleigh stared at her signature and realized she would have to forget some of those dreams.  Wonder would live with Goddess, grazing away in their separate paddock at Mill Ridge, far outside of the city.  Ashleigh was a little stunned to realize that was enough for her now.  The mare was hers, albeit a little late.

“Griffen?” she heard Brad say questioningly.  “You didn’t just realize that you’re going to start bouncing checks, did you?”

“No,” Ashleigh said softly, turning to him.  “No.  I’m just really, really happy right now.”

“I’m glad you’ve finally got her,” he said, taking his copy of the transfer and giving her a long look.

Ashleigh glanced up at him, suddenly remembering where they were before Wonder was hers.  They were so good at forgetting things, or acting on impulses without following through to conclusions.  He was going to leave her apartment now, walk down the hallway, fly back to Lexington, and then ship out to England.  He might glance behind him a few times, keep her in the back of his head, but he would start out fresh.  Much like Ashleigh had when she moved to New York.  Fresh starts didn’t include people who could remind you about what was.

“Well,” he said slowly, pushing from the counter.  “I should go, I think.”

“Wait?” Ashleigh asked, not meaning to sound pleading.  He stopped in her kitchen, looking down at her with a look bordering on trepidation and curiosity.  Ashleigh frowned, staring up at him.  “We were fighting a minute ago, and now everything is done.  You can’t go yet.  I have things to say.”

“What’s that?” Brad asked, sounding tired and a little irritable again. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashleigh said, looking him in the eye.  “I overreacted about England, and I shouldn’t have.  You know, I was really nervous about you coming here, if that wasn’t apparent all ready.  I wanted to tell you a few things I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say.  I guess I didn’t want to learn that I couldn’t make up for lost time.”

“What is it you wanted to say?” Brad asked her carefully.

Ashleigh laughed a little, deciding to use his own words: “That we weren’t always at odds, and, to be truthful, I enjoyed when we were and weren’t.”

“So you finally admit to that much?” Brad asked, smiling.  “Don’t do that much more, Griffen.  You’ll start overthrowing the system.”

Ashleigh grinned then, shoving him lightly in the arm.  “That was sort of the point, Townsend.”

He caught her elbow and drew her up to him, slipping another hand around her waist to keep her stationary against him.  Ashleigh pulled her head back a little to look up at him, their actions stalling there.  For a moment he considered her.

“You know I’m going to England, no exceptions?” Brad asked her, migrating his hand from her waist up her spine.  Ashleigh nodded, the simple movement brushing her nose against his.

“No exceptions,” she murmured.  “This wasn’t meant to be, remember?  I figure we can have a lot of good-byes.”

He didn’t answer outside of burying a hand into her damp hair at the base of her neck to kiss her, move her out of the kitchen, and submit to her directional turns through the living room and up the stairs to her queen-sized bed.  Later that night they talked quietly, settled next to each other under one haphazard white cotton sheet, skin a little damp, and watched the lights of the city reflecting on her ceiling.   

Ashleigh woke up early the next morning, her hair kinked from drying while she slept.  The sheets were cool on her bare skin, and twisted around her legs.  She moved to undo them, opening her eyes when her hands met the cold space next to her.  Quickly she glanced at the bedside clock, and wished so many things at once.

The time read 6:30 am, and she had overslept.  His plane was long gone. 

In the space he should have occupied laid the envelope containing Wonder’s papers.  It sat propped against the pillow, waiting for her attention.  Ashleigh reached over to the envelope and pulled it to her, suddenly not in a rush to get to work.  She smiled. 

There was a message written on it with a fine point black pen: “She’ll be waiting in Kentucky.”

 


End file.
